


And in the Silence (I'll close my eyes)

by imnotashadowclone



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Jemma Simmons - Freeform, Leo Fitz - Freeform, Major Character Injury, Post Season 2 Finale, ficlet really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4354292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotashadowclone/pseuds/imnotashadowclone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He whispers her name, like it was the world and the universe, like it was his life and death, like she was his everything </p>
<p>(because she is.)<br/>(She is)</p>
            </blockquote>





	And in the Silence (I'll close my eyes)

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive a budding author's inane attempts at writing.  
> This is my first work, but hopefully not my last.
> 
> Takes place (though it is never mentioned, and is not truly that relevant) roughly after two months of Jemma's Harold the Hungry Space Rock expedition.
> 
> My love for this fandom is kinnda unnerving but that's what happens when you find an impossibly great show, with equally great characters and actors.

He knows he’ll be dead soon, he can tell by the odd feeling of complete detachedness.

It makes him feel heavy and weightless at the same time, like he would sink into the ground or fly up, up, up.

_(somehow they’re the same)_

Every movement is a feat of herculean status.

He finds it harder and harder to keep his eyes open after each blink, like he was tired.

_(and he was, he really, really was)_

But he can’t sleep, can’t let himself sleep.

She would be so unbelievably angry if he did.

_(she wouldn’t forgive him anyway, not for doing this, for volunteering instead of waiting, instead of staying with her, instead of staying safe)_

She would never forgive herself.

_(she shouldn’t ever think that, should never feel that way)_

All around him he can smell fear and blood. Death and steel.

_(the smells of a battlefield)_

All he hears is the faint whirr of a ventilator and a low buzz.

_(there had been shots and screams, angry voices, a terrible, terrible CRUNCH-)_

It’s cold everywhere, like a constant rain of ice.

_(raining over the room, the wall he was lent against, his broken body; so cold)_

His hands are still clenched in a fist around the gun.

_(he can’t let go for some reason, he thinks it was fear, an ocean of fear before the numbness set in)_

He feels some amount of satisfaction ease through his limp body.

_(he found her, he found her, he found her, he freed her-)_

He told her exactly what he needed to.

Now all he could do was wait.

_(was it for her? Or maybe it was sleep? He was just so tired-)_

The scene before him is not pretty, dead men everywhere, all in black tactical gear.

_(just like him)_

They’re all dead by his gun.

_(but they had shot him first, one, then two, then three, slamming into him with dull thuds-)_

He breathes, drawing in deep breaths.

_(in and out and in and out-)_

He feels like he should feel angry with himself, maybe afraid.

_(he feels nothing, nothing at all, was this what being a killer was? Was he becoming just another murderer? Yes. No. they’re the same, same, same-)_

His head lolls to the side awkwardly, eyes easing shut just briefly.

_(just a little rest. Only for a moment, and then he would just-)_

No. He snaps his eyes open.

He has to stay awake, his eyes choosing to follow a crack in the ancient wall to the left to be the best distraction from the numbness.

_(he thinks of happier times, with the beautiful girl. Before)_

He hears a door open, a low metallic scraping as the desiccated old frame dragged against the heavily graffitied ground.

Low murmurs.

He hears his name in a few of the hushed whispers.

_(he thinks he hears her voice)_

He calls out to them.

_(he thinks he does at least, the buzz is getting louder and louder-)_

The whispers stop, then renew in brisk tones, he makes out another door opening, reaching his resting place.

He hears his name some more.

_(he wants to know if he still has to stay awake. It was just becoming so, so hard-)_

Suddenly she’s there before him, eyes wide with fear and rage and so many emotions.

She seems so tiny; thin, bruised, wearing clothes two sizes too big for her.

_(he’s never been more in love)_

Her fingers are cupping his cheeks, lips moving fast, saying something, but everything is slowing down, her fingers don’t seem real against his cold skin.

_(like ice burning against his face, too cold to be real, but she was here, here, here-)_

He watches with a sort of helpless sadness as her eyes filled with tears.

She’s trembling against him, warm and alive.

_(he can’t seem to focus on anything except for her)_

The tears are falling, streaming down her face in a singular path, silver in the harsh light.

_(it’s becoming dark, dark, dark, but he can’t tear his eyes from her devastated face, he won’t-)_

Vaguely in the background he sees others moving.

_(he can’t hear anymore, the incessant buzzing has taken over completely)_

She presses her lips to his forehead.

_(his eyes, his cheeks, everywhere but-)_

She whispers, repeating the words like they are a prayer, like her life depends on them.

_(he thinks it’s ‘I love you’)_

He smiles, wide as he can manage, raising a hand with the absolute last of his strength to caress her cheek.

_(he loves her too)_

He whispers her name, like it was the world and the universe, like it was his life and death, like she was his everything

_(because she is.)_

_(she is.)_

And he falls asleep.


End file.
